My December
by redheadsintrigueme
Summary: Percy reflects on his life one December.


Disclaimer: Why would J.K. Rowling be posting on a fanfiction site? Honestly.  
  
A/N: UGH! Everytime I go and look at this it still isn't right! I can't see the thoughts OR the flash back! Is it just my computer?  
  
HOPEFULLY, it worked this time!  
  
Okay, * words like theses * are thoughts.  
  
And all you Percy haters after the fifth book, he's not my favorite character. Actually I don't particularly even like him. I just like to think he has feelings, he's just too much of a jack- *nervous laughing*, er, dumbie? Yes that's it, to realize he has them.  
  
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Stuffing his unshielded hands into the pockets of his wool coat, he kept his head down as he hurried through Hogsmeade.  
  
* Honesty Percy, you know the hair would give it away. *  
  
Ever since leaving the Burrow and moving into a homely one bedroom flat on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, he was always nervous.  
  
* There is nothing to be scared about. You made the decision to leave your silly family, so why act like they kicked you out? *  
  
Snorting, he straightened up into his normal posture-chest puffed and nose to the sky. He quickly deflated, though, when he saw a glimpse of red.  
  
It was just a coat.  
  
"This is my December  
This is my time of the year"  
  
He quickened his pace until he got to his door, where he abruptly froze.  
  
It was an owl.  
  
It was Errol.  
  
"This is my December  
This is all so clear"  
  
Grabbing the package from the old bird's beak, he swiftly opened his door and retreated inside, leaving the owl trapped outside hooting.  
  
He didn't care about it.  
  
Not really.  
  
"Hoot! Ho-"  
  
* Oh, alright! *  
  
Wrenching the door open, he picked it up, shook off the snow, and shoved a biscuit in its mouth all in one fluid motion.  
  
After seeing it flop out the window, he took off his coat and looked at his flat for the first time since his hectic arrival.  
  
"This is my December  
This is my snow covered home"  
There was a trail of snow and slush leading to the window where he stood. The biscuits lay splayed across the table next to the package that had basically caused the whole mess.  
  
Most of all, there was no one but him.  
  
* This is not home. It's shelter. *  
  
Shaking his head, he mentally scolded himself.  
  
* The Burrow wasn't home either. Obviously. *  
  
"This is my December  
This is me alone"  
He stalked towards the package and snatched it up ready to throw it out the window, anything to get rid of it.  
  
But before he could, something stopped him.  
  
It was the "Weasley Sweater".  
  
And for a second, his foolish thoughts overruled and it felt almost- right.  
  
He could smell the food.  
  
He could see all the red hair.  
  
He could miss his family.  
  
"And I just wish that I didn't feel like there was something I missed  
And I take back all the things I said to make you feel like that"  
  
But as soon as the thoughts had come, they left when he dismissed them.  
  
* I have a wonderful job. Who knows, I may become the Minister of Magic. I have an average home, I suppose. But it will get better . . . *  
  
"This is my December  
These are my snow covered dreams"  
  
* I don't need family. I can just have my own someday. *  
  
"This is me pretending  
This is all I need"  
  
He grabbed the nearest quill and remembered something his father had told him once.  
  
*Flashback*  
  
"Say cheese!" Arthur Weasley cried happily.  
  
"Cheese?" A few called out but smiled nonetheless.  
  
Arthur had brought home a muggle camera home that Christmas.  
  
"I can't see!" Five year old Ron yelled.  
  
"Honestly, Ronniekins! Didn't you know muggle cameras cause blindness?" His older brother Fred said whilst bumping "blindly" into his twin, George.  
  
"Mum!" Ron squealed.  
  
"Fred! George! Don't tease your brother!" Their mother called at the same time.  
  
Percy Weasley, who had been watching all this in stern disapproval, turned his attention to his dad.  
  
"Father, what do you plan to do with the photograph?"  
  
Even at nine years old, he took pride in his maturity.  
  
"Well Percy, they're for Christmas cards. Let's just hope we don't get any Return to Senders," he said good-naturedly.  
  
"May I ask, Father, what a 'Return to Sender' is?"  
  
"It's when someone sends it back to you when they don't want it. Bit of an insult, really."  
  
*End of flashback*  
  
He scribbled "Return to Sender" on the brown paper and gave it to his own owl, Palti.  
  
Watching it fly away, he wondered about his family's reaction.  
  
* I don't care about it. *  
  
* Not really. *  
  
"This is my December  
This is my time of the year  
This is my December  
This is all so clear  
And I give it all away just to have somewhere to go to  
Give it all away just to have someone to come home to"  
  
A/N (part two!): Now review please! Thanks! 


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